


Heaven Can't Help You Now

by writingramblr



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Angels & Demons, Alternate Universe - Demons, Alternate Universe - Guardian Angels, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Anachronistic, Angels vs. Demons, Angst, Attempted Seduction, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, M/M, Maybe - Freeform, Multi, Oral Sex, Pining, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Resolved Sexual Tension, Romance, Secretly a Virgin, So Wrong It's Right, Temporary Humanity, Threesome - F/M/M, angels are virgins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-10
Updated: 2015-09-16
Packaged: 2018-04-20 01:02:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 14,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4767704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingramblr/pseuds/writingramblr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When demon Napoleon Solo is assigned to seduce the charge of guardian angel Illya Kuryakin, the battle for Gaby Teller's soul between Heaven and Hell is on.</p><p>However, things don't go exactly as either side would have planned...</p><p> </p><p>Gaby has always seen someone out of the corner of her eye and when they're finally before her in the flesh, while competing with a perfectly handsome man with dark hair and a compelling smile, she's going to have a bit more than she can handle...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [How the Mighty Fall (in Love)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3235250) by [Abbie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Abbie/pseuds/Abbie), [RosieTwiggs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RosieTwiggs/pseuds/RosieTwiggs). 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> purely exposition chapters that i wish i didn't feel obligated to write but i did.

He’s watched over her now for her two and a half decades of life, always there in the most dangerous times, protecting her from any and everything if necessary.

Whether from war coming too close to home, to just foolish boys out to cause havoc in her life, Illya was the epitome of his job, lead guardian and watcher over Gabrielle Teller.

If Heaven was to be asked who their fiercest warrior was, it would probably be Illya, followed closely by an older angel named Alexei.

Illya had been in the business for nearly one hundred years, and he’d never dreamt when he got his assignment for the baby girl born in East Germany that it would be the most challenging one yet.

Not because Gabrielle, or Gaby, as he knew she secretly preferred, was overly prone to accidents or reckless, she simply seemed to attract trouble as easy as she attracted attention.

She was beautiful, though to a guardian angel it shouldn’t have even been a factor, but it was.

Illya had seen wide dark brown eyes mature to fit the face they framed, and though she never grew taller than a bit over five feet, she was incredibly bold and brave at heart.

She didn’t need to tower over people to gain their respect.

The night when she escaped from behind the Iron Curtain he was never far behind, sword drawn and eyes scanning the area, prepared for anything.

But strangely enough, she took care of herself fairly well, and he had a stray thought that perhaps she was outgrowing him.

That was until twin bullets fired and landed just a hair too close to her head, and he roared back to life, swooping in to hover just above her, eyes flashing and daring anyone to try to hurt his charge.

He only breathed easy when she was safely settled with a girlfriend and falling asleep to the foreign sound of music on the radio.

After being orphaned as a teenager and taking up odd jobs, she’d heard of a way out, and taken it.

Illya hadn’t been able to persuade her otherwise.

She never seemed to take him seriously in her dreams anyway.

He supposed it had begun, ironically, when she’d really started to notice boys in general, all it took was a pretty face and she rolled her eyes and asked them if they wanted to wrestle, when they couldn’t or wouldn’t dance.

The first time she’d asked him that in a dream he’d been completely taken aback.

She surely had meant to make a fool of him.

But no.

When he refused, her dream self walked away from him and went off with someone else, breaking his heart all at once.

He limited his appearance in her mind after that, saving it for emergencies only.

Only a week after she’d been discovering how life could really be outside the iron curtain, and he found himself facing the hardest decision he’d ever had to make in his century of being a watcher.

To manifest before her to protect her, or to remain hidden from her and the threat?

He didn’t know, but he had little time to decide.

*

Napoleon was named for one of the failed conquerors of Europe, and his demon superiors never seemed to want him to forget it.

He wasn’t short, fat or ugly, so he took pride in that fact.

Rising up through the ranks of seduction demons helped shut up most of his bullies, and the ones who refused to admit they were wrong simply had to watch the numbers of his conquests as they grew.

As he got promoted to head of his department, Seduction and Possession, he took his bows.

His new demon to report to, Waverly, was a nice chap overall, but had been in the business far too long, and despite the magickes he used, was showing wrinkles and even a hint of more silver in his hair than was handsome.

Napoleon gladly offered to take some of the more hefty assignments from the man and distribute them among his hoards.

“Good idea Napoleon. You know it’s nearly time for me to be considering retirement.”

Napoleon didn’t bother arguing with him or lying to him that he didn’t need it.

He wanted that job as much as anyone, and his one advantage was that he had been an outcast and runt of a demon before proving his mettle.

Waverly would have him in consideration over nearly a dozen other hopefuls.

One afternoon, or evening, or morning, in hell, it didn’t really matter, Waverly pulled Napoleon aside.

“I’ve got something special for you. It’s a bit dangerous, and certainly if you don’t want to do it, I won’t think any less of you.”

Napoleon frowned and immediately shook his head,

“Whatever it is sir, I’ll do it.”

Waverly grinned and clapped him on the back,

“That’s a good lad. Now here’s the snag, the problem, the actual target for acquisition is a lovely young lady, who’s just escaped from Hitler’s Germany, been outside for a few weeks now, and she’s preparing to go out and have a bit of fun.”

“Should be a piece of cake. What’s the catch?”

“She’s guarded by one of the best. Illya Kuryakin. He’s a bit of a legend among the legions. Defeated over a thousand in the last major war we fought. He’s got a hundred years of experience slaying.”

Napoleon gulped, and tried to keep the ever present smile on his face in place,

“Oh.”

He might have been an expert seducer and possessor, but he’d not been around nearly half that. There was nothing he hated more than killing a guardian angel.

They always fought dirty, and never went down easy.

“Here’s the lady’s file, and you may want to slip over to HR and grab something of a disguise. Good luck.”

With a final squeeze to Napoleon’s shoulder, Waverly was gone, as the manila folder burned inside his grasp.

HR was Human Replications, the place to get any and all magicke enhancers or temporary disguises for visiting the surface.

On missions, one had to appear as human as possible to have the best chance. Smelling like fire and brimstone didn’t ever get one very far, and the lack of a heartbeat and working lungs was rather a giveaway when one worked in close quarters, as seducers did.

According to her file, Gabrielle Teller, currently living with a close girlfriend, Natalia Smith, enjoyed wrestling, held a secret dream of studying engineering, and occasionally, dancing and drinking.

The latter two she’d rarely gotten to do for real in her childhood home, and had substituted juice for pretend alcohol and made up music in her own mind for the dancing.

Napoleon smiled to himself as he read through the file and decided he’d be willing to risk anything to get a shot at a soul as pure and perfect as hers.

He hadn’t even flipped through to her picture and when he did stop to stare, it was for a good long moment.

It was only so he would be able to find her in the midst of a busy dance floor, that’s what he told himself.

Never mind her favorite color was sky blue and charcoal black, it had no bearing on the suit he decided upon.

None at all.


	2. Chapter 2

The music was almost deafening in the nightclub, and Gaby was sure she’d have a horrible headache from the screwdrivers she was downing, but she didn’t care.

She’d never had so much fun in all of her life, and the clock had barely struck midnight.

Natalia was nowhere to be found, but Gaby had heard her shout something about a certain couple who’d propositioned her, so she might be home late, or not at all that night, and Gaby had been scandalized at first, then simply jealous.

In the entire club, she hadn’t seen anyone she really could see herself saying yes to go home with.

The boys, or men, were sweet enough, willing to buy her drinks for a dance or two, but they weren’t getting any more interesting with conversations, no matter how much she drank.

By the time the lights had started to blur and the floor danced right along with her, she was ready to call it a night and go home alone.

Until that was, a hand brushed past her and slapped the counter of the bar where she sat, nursing her fifth, or sixth drink.

“One whiskey, make it a double!”

She followed the hand to a perfect cuff, held together with links that were cherry red, at least in the light, and up an arm to a pair of broad shoulders and all the way up to a handsome face with blue eyes that seemed to burn right into her.

“Hi.”

To call it an understatement would be kind but the simple fact was, he was the absolute best looking guy she’d seen all night.

“Hello there.”

Forget the loud music, Gaby was so ready to let the guy chat to her all night with a voice like that.

It sounded so crisp and clear even though he was a good half foot away from her.

How did he do that?

“All by yourself tonight?”

Cutting right to the chase seemed to be the best course of action, and it seemed the gentleman in question agreed.

The smile he threw her way was so practiced it was almost cheesy, but the vodka singing through her veins didn’t care.

“Not anymore, I don’t think.”

He had now leaned down onto his elbow, propped on the counter and a few scant inches from her. Normally in daylight it would be an indecent distance, but here, everyone was canoodling in corners, or worse.

Gaby grinned right back, and met him halfway, nudging his shoulder with hers, and the ripple of sparks that seemed to zip right through her to her heart, speeding up her pulse and making her cheeks flush was a surprise, as well as the gentle tap on her opposite shoulder, and the cool breeze that seemed to roll in with the movement.

The man before her suddenly looked worried and his eyes were no longer focused on burning a path through to her inner desires, they were looking towards the door.

Gaby rolled her eyes and looked over to see who was attempting to bother her from the only score she wanted to make, and found herself staring as much or more than the man to her right.

Her jaw actually had dropped.

There was a second man to her left, and he was someone she felt as if she _knew_ but she couldn’t remember how.

Like out of a half remembered dream.

Always in the corner of her eye.

But not a bad feeling.

No, she felt something akin to quiet joy at seeing him, really seeing him, before her.

The man was tall as well as broad shouldered. He was probably a good foot taller than her, if she hadn’t been wearing heels.

Where the man who’d ordered whiskey had dark hair that curled over his temples, the man before her was fair haired, and had icy blue eyes.

How was it possible that they were so similar and yet so different?

It didn’t really matter.

Mister smooth had spoken to her first, so she didn’t want to be rude, but she wanted to get back to him.

“Excuse me, do I know you?”

Gaby asked the tall newcomer, with the express purpose of intimidating him to leave, and it seemed he didn’t care, for he took the recently vacant seat beside her, effectively trapping her between the two, and then he smiled, but instead of looking practiced, it was forced.

“No, I’m sorry, but I saw you sitting over here, and had to come say hello. Is this man bothering you?”

The blond giant tossed effective daggers towards the dark haired man, who merely coughed and took a large gulp of his drink, before Gaby realized they were waiting for her to speak.

“Uh, no. Not at all. In fact, you’re kind of the invading party. It’s very sweet of you to come over, but honestly if you’d just done it half an hour sooner, I’d be dancing with you, instead of this gentleman.”

Gaby turned to the man who’d just finished his whiskey and held out her hand,

“Shall we?”

With a brilliant smile that completely erased every hint of worry his beautiful face had ever held, he took her hand, and led her out to the crowded dance floor.

“Thank you for asking. I was just about to, if that other guy hadn’t come up and interrupted us.”

Gaby wrinkled her nose,

“Yeah that was weird. I wasn’t kidding though. If you hadn’t gotten there first, and he’d been faster, I’d be getting stepped on by him.”

The man laughed and then shrugged,

“Lucky me.”

He pulled her in closer, and she hadn’t been expecting it, and as such semi crashed into his chest.

The hard planes of his muscles could be felt through his suit jacket and just like that she was back to feeling overheated and nervous.

“Tell me stranger, what’s your name? And where did you learn to dance to such horrid music so well?”

The man grinned at her, showing brilliantly white teeth and smoothly he guided them around the less skilled bunches of people, a hand low at the small of her back, burning right through the thin fabric of her dress,

“Napoleon Solo is the name. As for my dancing skills, there’s really no one I can give credit to besides myself.”

Gaby nodded her head to him,

“Self taught. That is impressive. Consider me intrigued Mister Solo. I’m Gabrielle, but I prefer-“

Before she could finish her sentence, and grant Napoleon the rare gift of her favored nickname, there was a looming presence behind her, and Napoleon had pulled her to a stop to prevent a collision.

Without turning around, she suspected it to be the tall stranger, and as she moved to glare up at him she wasn’t surprised.

“What do you want?”

The man’s blue eyes flashed at Napoleon’s in what could be called annoyance, and then were back focused on her,

“Just a moment of your time. It’s a matter of life and death.”

Gaby rolled her eyes at him, and felt Napoleon’s arms slide around her waist in a protective gesture, not to mention the fact he was starting to move along with the music again, perhaps ready to flee with her in tow if she desired.

It wasn’t until the tall man crowded in on them, and the dance floor was indeed too packed to allow a fast getaway that Gaby felt in danger of being crushed.

Not by Napoleon, but the giant.

“Who are you?”

The man’s mouth was a grim line, but his displeasure was completely obvious,

“Hasn’t he told you all about me yet?”

Gaby frowned, and looked back over her shoulder at Napoleon, who looked rather amused.

“I’m not that much of an asshole, _angel_.”

Gaby lifted a hand,

“What?”

Napoleon splayed his hand on her waist, pressing her back into his chest, protective or not, she could now feel what she suspected was his arousal flush against her bum.

Thanks to Natalia’s encouraging, she’d gone out without panties, and was somewhat regretting it.

Merely because she realized how easily Napoleon could discover for himself, and indeed, she didn’t even care.

Her cheeks were still flushed, but whether from indignation or the alcohol, she didn’t know. She reached out to poke the giant in the chest, and demanded his name.

When his gaze shifted down to her from where he’d been trying to out glare her except at Napoleon, it almost took her breath away.

“I’m Illya. Illya Kuryakin.”

“Oh.”

She let him take her hand and place a delicate, for him as he appeared to have the strength to crush a man’s head between his own hands, kiss on her wrist, before letting it go.

That one movement and touch was enough to finish stoking the flames of desire that Napoleon had started with his smile and dancing.

“Did you want to go somewhere a little, quieter?”

Napoleon was whispering in her ear, and Gaby could only nod, utterly distracted and on the verge of a breakthrough, despite the alcohol hampering her usual cognitive prowess.

“Do you two know each other?”

She finally found herself asking, as she was flanked outside on the sidewalk, the trip back to her new apartment not nearly long enough.

Napoleon didn’t seem to mind the fact Illya was accompanying them, but Illya looked very angry that Gaby had her arm around Napoleon and not him.

She barely knew him.

But somehow that wasn’t right.

He was more familiar to her than Napoleon.

How could that be?

The real question was, how had she gotten so lucky to leave the club with not one but two handsome men at her side?


	3. Chapter 3

Illya was beyond furious, and the only thing keeping the wretched demon on _his_ Gaby’s arm alive was the fact there were still too many human witnesses around, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to traumatize Gaby by slaying the demon right there.

He’d been watching her so carefully, and as soon as he’d looked away, concerned for Gaby’s friend Natalia who’d left on the arms of a man and woman who looked too pretty to be merely human themselves, _he’d_ been there.

Napoleon Solo.

The demon scourge of the underworld was a daily nuisance that Illya dealt with, but hadn’t been an overt threat to his charge in…ever.

He’d never expected Hell to send its highest ranking seduction demon after his charge. How could they dare?

Incredibly, he’d done well.

He’d managed to refrain from drawing his sword in close quarters of the club, which had been his first reaction upon seeing Gaby speaking to, much less acknowledging the presence of Napoleon.

Then he’d asked her to dance, and in effect stolen her away.

He’d spotted a flare of recognition in Gaby’s eyes when he’d walked up, and joined the visible spectrum, but after that she’d been distracted and nearly vanished on the dance floor.

After internally debating with himself the best course of action, he determined he would play along with it, until Gaby was sufficiently exhausted and therefore would no longer be a witness to his vengeance in slaying or a potential danger to be _taken_.

But it had been extremely difficult to watch the demon practically grinding himself up against poor innocent Gaby, who’d reacted as anyone would, flushed cheeks, heightened arousal, and impaired judgement, thanks to the drinks she’d had.

Even in the cold night air, she still had an air of warmth, and it wasn’t the demon’s doing.

She was practically glowing.

He tried to ignore the particular scent that was beginning to overwhelm her normal perfume and shampoo of her hair.

Napoleon had surely noticed it, and practically caused it, so why shouldn’t he?

That bastard.

Illya tightened his hand on the hilt of his sword, and continued on, following the pair at a minimal distance, until Gaby spoke, drawing him into the conversation.

She wanted to know how he knew Napoleon.

That was a dangerous question, one that the demon had already danced too close to while on the dance floor.

Ironically enough.

He glanced over at the demon, well, the man who he was gladly in the form of, and shrugged, unsure how to answer.

Napoleon did it for him, and he was reluctantly thankful.

“We worked together. Long ago. During the war. But we went our separate ways, as friends do.”

The wink the demon sent him probably made him shed a feather from his sheathed wings.

It certainly made his jaw ache from clenching.

*

“Oh, okay that makes sense. But I wonder where I’ve seen you before then.”

Gaby looked back at Illya, who’d fallen behind slightly, and seemed to be staring imaginary holes into ground.

That anger and passion was intense, and she wondered just how he was when that energy was focused into the bedroom.

Surely she hadn’t stopped blushing since leaving the club, after all, they were going back to her place, and she still wasn’t sure who she was going to let in, and who she was going to turn away at the door.

Napoleon snuggled up against her arm, and linked his other hand with hers.

“So what do you do?”

Gaby looked down at the ground, but not nearly as fiercely as Illya.

She always had hated that question, for she’d never known the answer, and if she dared to dream of university and a degree in mechanical anything, she’d have been laughed at. Now? Tonight? Anything was possible.

“Nothing yet, but someday I want to be an engineer.”

Daring to look up at Napoleon, she saw a look of pleasant surprise and something akin to…wonder?

“That’s a great career path. I’m sure you’ll be great.”

Illya cleared his throat from behind them and spoke up,

“What did you do before nothing?”

Gaby sighed, and prepared to be abandoned on the sidewalk before speaking,

“I was a little bit of everything, but the thing I loved most was, working as a mechanic.”

She winced, and leaned away from Napoleon, but he merely held her closer.

“That’s incredible! If I have any car trouble now I know who to come to.”

He grinned widely at her, and she was struck at how young it made him appear.

It was a genuine expression, and she marveled.

There was a stop sign, and then another block until her apartment.

At the front stoop, Gaby hopped up and spun around to face the men. She wasn’t taller than Illya still, but nearly level with him.

“Now boys, I’ve had a lovely evening with you, but the fact is, I can’t bring you both up.”

The men exchanged a glance, well, it was more like a brief battle in dagger throwing, again.

Gaby sighed, and hugged her arms to her chest, the words tumbling out before she could stop them,

“Although I really want to.”

Surely steam was rising from her cheeks at the idea?

The late hour was mostly the reason she could they could possibly maybe get away with it.

Everyone else was likely asleep.

Natalia was out.

No one would know.

Napoleon caught her eye, and she flushed.

Illya was probably getting ready to cut and run.

Until she noticed the sudden grip he had on Napoleon’s arm and she swore he hissed,

“You go, I go, be aware.”

But she could not be sure.

Now it was up to them to decide.

Quickly she hoped, as she desperately wanted a kiss, and another drink before getting out of her dress.

She bit her lip and looked between them, waiting.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm going straight to hell for sure...

Napoleon could feel the edge of the blade at his back, although Gaby would not have noticed Illya draw it, much less understand why a grown man who appeared to only need his own two hands as weapons would even have use of a _sword_ , he got the point.

Twice over.

If he accepted Gaby’s offer, Illya was going to as well.

He would not be alone in the seduction.

But then again, maybe that was better.

He started to imagine the possibilities, and not just the sex.

Bringing in the pure soul of Gaby, and causing the prized angel Illya to fall?

It was too perfect.

Was he up to it?

He didn’t know.

What he did know was that he needed to taste Gaby’s lips or he might become so impatient he’d attempt to kiss Illya.

_That_ would be a foolhardy choice.

“Let’s go then.”

He gave Gaby a winning smile, and reached for her hand again. It just fit well in his, and when his thumb stroked over her palm, he felt her shiver.

She wanted him just as badly.

It didn’t take much for him to become aroused, especially when working with such a gorgeous human, but the fact was, since he’d seen her picture he’d been willing to do anything she asked.

“Okay.”

Her voice was quiet, but her resolve was iron clad.

Illya acted rather daringly, in Napoleon’s opinion, and reached out to snag her other hand, surprisingly she didn’t flinch away.

Then again, guardian angel.

He was surely using some kind of whammy on her to make her more comfortable with him.

Napoleon frowned, watching the way the two of them stared at each other for a moment before deciding that no, in fact, the angel was simply begging her with his eyes.

Begging for a chance.

She granted it, ever the benevolent queen.

She moved, they followed.

*

Illya wasn’t really sure what on earth he was getting into, but he had trailed behind for long enough, and staked a claim to hold one of Gaby’s hands.

That was a good start for intimacy wasn’t it?

On earth, he’d observed it many a time.

He’d even had to halt the process for Gaby’s own safety.

Not that he’d stifled her love life, not at all.

It didn’t mean he’d liked having to watch over her while the visiting cousin of that Italian customer whose car she’d fixed up perfectly kissed her and fucked her until she couldn’t walk straight.

Not at all.

But he did ensure that she never wanted him again by visiting her in her dreams for the first time in almost half a decade. He made an impression.

He wasn’t proud of what he’d done.

Well, maybe a little.

In dreams, he was much less shy.

Plus he could read and anticipate her thoughts and desires before they occurred; in real life he had no such advantage.

Now, he was watching as Gaby darted around the apartment, turning out various lamps they wouldn’t need, and pulling bottles out of the liquor cabinet that was fully stocked.

She would have more, and then be out much sooner.

“Drink?”

She held up a bottle of scotch to him, and he shook his head,

“No thank you.”

The little frown between her eyebrows was one he knew well, and it made her look perfectly adorable.

“Napoleon?”

He nodded, of course.

Couldn’t get enough alcohol and debauchery, the demons never did.

“Ta.”

Until that moment Illya hadn’t realized the demon was playing a Brit.

He’d wondered about his accent, and why he’d chosen it.

Then again, he’d decided to go with a soviet one, best explaining his looks.

Gaby didn’t seem to care.

She poured a glass of vodka, surprising him, and downed a large gulp in a quick motion.

One could say to be rude that she was swaying and silly on her feet from the drink, but Illya thought it was more like she danced all the way over to them, first pulling out her hair clip, allowing the soft brown curls to fall halfway down her back and frame her face, and then placing her hands on Napoleon’s shoulders, before speaking,

“You had a dance with me, and it was lovely, but now I want to ask Illya, okay?”

She was checking with the demon before asking Illya to dance?

“But…”

“Don’t argue.”

Gaby hadn’t so much as kissed Napoleon on the cheek before slinking over to Illya and pressing one hand to his chest, in a familiar gesture, and the other up to his lips, her hand mostly covering his mouth and simply sliding down to graze his neck and shoulder, moving him gently with her, by sheer force of willpower, because _he_ did not dance.

“Come on now, dance with the lady.”

Napoleon was goading him.

“I do not dance.”

Illya hissed back.

However, it appeared that Gaby was growing tired of leading and attempting to move an immoveable object despite the strength behind her intoxicated body. Now her hands were wandering and slipping under his suit jacket, which was naturally charcoal black and plain as could be, next to Napoleon’s perfectly cut navy blue three piece number, complete with a sky blue tie that could be argued matched with his eyes.

“You have too many clothes on. Both of you. I mean, I don’t even have any underwear on.”

Gaby was now covering her face with her hand, a soft sound like laughter falling from her lips, even as Illya’s ears burned from the knowledge repeated aloud which he already suspected.

In the last decade, he’d stopped watching her get dressed, simply to save himself embarrassment and potential, well, something indecent, and now that night he’d broken the vow.

He’d watched her put that leopard print silk dress on in one fell swoop, with not even a slip underneath and now he was about to get to see it come off.

Napoleon was smirking from across the room, and already undoing his cufflinks and kicking off his shoes.

It seemed that he could handle himself, whereas Gaby was handling _him_.

“How does this come off?”

She sounded a little angry as she fussed with his tie, clearly not wanting to choke him but unable to undo the knot.

“Here, let me.”

Unwelcome and unfamiliar hands came out of nowhere to move Gaby’s much smaller ones up and away, and Illya found himself watching the demon carefully as he undid the tie and tossed it aside.

“We don’t need it right?”

Napoleon winked at him and he gritted his teeth.

The demon was only clad in black silk boxers and to Illya’s annoyance, Gaby’s attention had been perfectly diverted by so much bared skin.

If he was perfectly honest with himself, the demon was in great shape, yes, but that didn’t matter.

Angels kept themselves in the tip top of shape as well, prepared for battle at any moment, whereas demon physiques were mainly an element of vanity.

Gaby was making little cooing noises in the back of her throat as she touched him, and it had a moderate effect on his self control. Namely, he basically switched it off to allow the full human experience.

“Whoa.”

Perhaps that had been the wrong move, judging by the way Gaby reacted to his sudden formed erection in his dress pants.

The rush of pleasure throughout his body when she was touching him was now tenfold, and he felt his hand balling into fists to keep from touching her right back, or rather, tearing her little dress to shreds and then pulling her up for a kiss.

He wanted to let her lead, as long as possible.

But when her hands abandoned undoing his shirt in favor of palming his cock through his pants, he couldn’t help the moan that ripped from his throat.

“Nice going.”

Napoleon wasn’t teasing, he actually looked impressed.

By what exactly?

How Illya was melting into Gaby’s hands like butter on a hot day?

Or by some miracle was he actual competition to a seduction demon?

He didn’t know.

“I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but I want both of you in my mouth at some point. Maybe at once.”

Gaby looked up at him from under her eyelashes with cheeks kissed by pink, boldness or the alcohol, but Illya didn’t care.

All he knew was that surely his brain was going to short circuit if she said anything else remotely as dangerous as that.

Forget the seduction demon; she was doing a hell of a job all by herself.

While Napoleon lounged on her bed, which had somehow grown large enough for the three of them in the last five minutes, Illya remained trapped beneath Gaby’s wandering little hands.

“Are you going to undress all night or do I need to come help you two out?”

Napoleon was impatient, and Illya fought the urge to smirk in triumph.

He wasn’t the one at Gaby’s mercy.

“He’s right. Help a girl out?”

Gaby moved away and turned around, revealing the hidden zipper at the nape of her neck, and she lifted her hair without another word, clearly expecting him to do the honors.

Taking a quick gulp of air he didn’t really need, Illya complied with her wishes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *hums bow chicka wow wow*


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come...join me in hell

Gaby was blissfully naked against the cool sheets, but both the men were still in their pants.

Boxers were such wonderful inventions of clothing, for Gaby knew she would happily watch the two of them walk around her room all night in just that, showing off spectacular chest muscles and two sets of tantalizing trails of hair, one dark, one light, each leading below the belt and to what she knew she needed most.

Then again, she was a good girl, relatively, and while she had enjoyed the little bit of teasing she’d done to Illya, she really wanted a kiss.

Neither of the men were being overly pushy, which was a godsend, so she moved to Napoleon first, since he had been just that, first to approach her, and after climbing onto his lap, and being granted another winning smile, she leaned in to wipe it away.

His lips parted underneath hers almost immediately and she tasted something with a bite to it. He had only been drinking scotch, last she checked, and it wasn’t flavored, but there was a hint of spice on his tongue.

He kissed her with purpose, and the way his tongue moved and his teeth nipped, gave her a rather explicit preview of what he would gladly do to other parts of her body later on.

She pulled away smiling, and panting from the fact he’d stolen her breath away.

“Next.”

It seemed silly to say, but there had been an almost wistful look in Illya’s eyes, and there was no way she wanted him to begin to feel left out.

With his height, she almost wanted him on his back so she could loom over him for a change but the way his arms wrapped around her and drew her in made her relax about it.

“Hi.”

He blinked and then repeated the greeting, with a softer tone that he’d been using all night,

“Hi.”

She stroked the side of his cheek gently,

“Don’t be nervous. This isn’t a competition. You only do what you want.”

Instead of thanking her, or saying he wasn’t nervous at all, he shook his head. She couldn’t stop the frown before it started, but his words froze her,

“I will only do what _you_ want. Always.”

Maybe Napoleon had stolen her actual breath with a kiss, but now Illya had literally taken her ability to breathe.

She remembered when her head began to pound, but by then Illya’s eyes had slipped shut and he’d leaned in, so she did what she thought was best, met him halfway.

The slip and slide of his tongue against hers was like drinking from a fountain of cool water. Except instead of her thirst being sated, all she wanted was more.

Napoleon hadn’t moved her much at all as they kissed, oh sure, his hands had wandered, and who could blame him, all that bare skin in front of him.

Now as she was perched on Illya, she found herself dropping down gently enough so as not to hurt him, before starting to rub against him, only a thin layer of fabric separating his still rock hard cock from her sex.

Surely he could feel how wet she was through the fabric?

Instead of being embarrassed, she was emboldened.

The kiss deepened and Illya’s arms tightened around her as his hips pushed up against her, furthering the friction between them.

It was only the sound of heavy breathing that gave Gaby pause, and she broke the kiss to look over and see Napoleon working himself in hand, boxers nowhere to be seen.

She probably stared way too long before looking back to Illya, but the way his eyelashes fluttered as he seemed to awaken from a dream broke her.

It was only a one night stand, a mad adventure thanks to the magic of alcohol and the wonders of fate in the universe, but why did her heart ache to pull both men close to her and never let go?

The fleeting moment passed and she realized that what she really needed was for someone to be inside her.

She was leaning towards Illya, considering how close they were already, and the fact that Napoleon was clearly on the way to taking care of himself, for the moment at least.

Only one thing was missing.

Before shifting up and off of Illya, she placed another searing kiss on his lips,

“Be right back.”

While cursing Natalia for putting the box of condoms so far away, in the bottom cabinet in the bathroom, Gaby mildly wondered if they were both staring after her, having nearly sprinted naked across the room.

The thought made her giggle.

*

“Don’t even think about it.”

Illya stuck his hand in Napoleon’s face, prepared for the onslaught of insults and cheap shots.

“What? That Gaby is positively delicious and I couldn’t stop kissing her if I wanted but only did because she wanted? I’m here for her too you know. This isn’t a tight race.”

“It’s not a race at all.”

Illya glared at the demon, who still seemed content as a cucumber to keep stroking himself, despite there being no audience for the moment.

He looked pretty, with his cock in hand, it was no wonder he was a successful seducer of legions.

Not that Illya cared.

Or noticed said cock.

He smirked to himself as he remembered Gaby’s reaction, or precisely, the word she’d used, just upon feeling the existence of his own.

She still had yet to actually see it.

He suddenly wondered if he should shed his boxers while she was absent, just as Napoleon had taken advantage of her distraction upon Illya’s lap.

He continued to glower at the demon who still looked remarkably casual and laid back.

“She wants you first. It’s only natural. You’ve been with her all her life. What was that like? Watching her grow up into such a goddess?”

“That’s blasphemy.”

Illya replied automatically.

Napoleon chuckled,

“True, but I would have to say she’s looking less and less innocent every moment. In fact, for a moment there I actually forgot _I_ was the seduction demon as I watched her work you. How long has it been since you’ve taken a human form?”

Illya’s flaring of his nostrils in annoyance was enough of an answer.

Napoleon was gaping at him.

“So don’t be surprised if I don’t last very long. Don’t take it as a compliment to your skill, but rather to hers.” Illya finally said.

Napoleon regained his composure, and glanced down to Illya’s crotch for more than a moment,

“Well then I’m impressed you didn’t go off when she kissed you. If I was a practical virgin, I’d have been long gone.”

Illya found himself acting out Gaby’s common habit. He rolled his eyes.

Just in time too, for she reappeared from the bathroom at that instant, a fistful of human prophylactics in hand.

Neither Illya nor Napoleon could possibly impregnate her, even if they wanted, but they appreciated the gesture.

Illya wasn’t about to break the charade by telling her that anyway, and he doubted Napoleon was ready to reveal his hand.

“Everything all right?”

Gaby asked, her sweet face colored with concern for a moment as she looked between the two of them, and Illya simply nodded, while Napoleon chose to smirk,

“Of course, we were just talking about how we can’t wait to be inside you.”

Gaby blushed prettily, and Illya fought the urge to growl at the demon.

He just _had_ to make it obscene.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *chanting* hell...hell...hell...we're going to hell.

“You first.”

Gaby plucked one of the condoms from the small pile on the bedside table and then pounced on Illya again, kissing him soundly, before leaning up so he could shimmy out of his boxers.

She hoped her eyes didn’t actually widen at the first sight of his impressively large cock, but they probably did.

Damn the vodka.

Oh well.

He didn’t look, well; anything but completely enamored with her, which was perfectly fine in her opinion.

If he had seemed too smug she might have made him wait, and gone after Napoleon instead, but no.

She could feel his eyes on her as she tore open the packet, and carefully rolled the condom on, praying it would be large enough.

Bless Natalia after all for buying the all purpose ones, which were perfect.

Finally Illya was ready.

Well, he’d probably been ready a while, but now it was okay.

Gaby watched him as she moved up, bracing her hands on his broad shoulders as she hovered over him,

“Okay?”

He nodded wordlessly, and she sank down slowly.

An involuntary gasp filled the air, and her grip faltered on his skin as he filled her inch by agonizingly delicious inch.

She was certain Napoleon was watching them, but she didn’t mind.

In fact, she could have sworn that the thought made her wetter.

When there was no more cock for her to take, she squeezed her inner muscles around him, hoping to be able to make it at least pleasant for him.

She managed to open her eyes and meet his gaze again and found he was only a breath away, prepared for a kiss, which she gladly accepted.

Moving up and down slowly, she managed to find a rhythm that wasn’t too fast and uncomfortable for her, for though it was far from her first, it had been a good year or more since she’d had any sort of sex.

He was probably a good inch too big for her to fully take in, so she reached down with a free hand to try and stroke the rest of it, and subtly touch herself a bit to bring her along.

When she met resistance, her eyes snapped open to find him moving her hand aside, wanting to do what she was doing.

“Just… like that.”

She pressed his thumb against her clit and bit her lip against the sensation.

It was almost perfect.

“Gaby… I’m sorry.”

She frowned, and then watched as his head fell back, eyes closed, and his mouth opened slightly as he groaned his release.

His hips shifted only slightly beneath her and then stilled.

She reached up to touch his face, brushing a hand over his cheek,

“Illya… it’s okay. Never apologize. Was this…?”

She wasn’t really sure how to ask. She’d never have guessed a man like him would have been a virgin, and he hadn’t protested or stopped her at any time, so she hoped it had at least been nice.

Her knees were screaming in protest for her to move, but she was afraid to hurt him.

“Yes.”

It was a gasp of a sigh but the sweetest thing he’d ever said.

For when Illya looked back down at her, and smiled the cheesiest grin, it was clear he’d enjoyed it.

“Okay.”

“Thank you.”

Gaby smirked right back,

“Did you think that was all? Not so. I’m going to go fuck Napoleon here, and then I’ll be back for you. I meant what I said. I want to… try to have you in my mouth.”

She leaned in to kiss him while lifting up slightly and letting him slip out of her.

It was a simple matter to take off the condom and tie it up to toss it aside.

When she broke the kiss, she realized he would probably need to catch his breath, so she moved away more, but was stopped by a hand around her waist.

“Gaby… you were wonderful.”

“Now, stop it.”

She gently smacked his arm and swore she heard Napoleon chuckle.

“Just wait mister. You’re next.”

Before fully climbing over to him, she snagged another condom from the bedside table, and gave Illya a final peck on the cheek.

*

Napoleon was very impressed with the angel’s stamina, despite his self deprecating attitude, and for the fact that he had honestly never had sex in his hundred years, he’d done rather well.

It was quite endearing to watch Gaby restrain herself from trying to take him completely, and he wondered if he could have her, and if she were willing, could Illya fit better into her elsewhere?

All those sort of thoughts fled from his mind the second he found himself with an armful of warm and wanting human.

Gaby was perched atop him like a gentle bird, but he was absolutely willing to change positions if she desired.

“Did you still want to be on top? I don’t mind but maybe you’d like to have Illya watch us?”

Gaby looked intrigued.

“How do you mean?”

“We wouldn’t be able to kiss, but I have a feeling you’d enjoy it more.”

The hand that rested easily on her hip slid around her waist so that he could finger her slit and brush up inside against her swollen nub, driving a gasp from her. Never let it be said he didn’t have his ways of persuading a human to do _exactly_ what he wanted, and what they didn’t know _they_ wanted as well.

“Okay.”

“Excellent.”

He gave her a long and deep kiss before climbing out of the bed to move behind her, and reaching for the condom,

“I’ll do that.”

Gaby looked a bit lost, so he carefully guided her into position, up on her knees, but able to collapse onto a pillow if her arms gave out.

She was indeed facing Illya, who looked rather embarrassed to be so visible.

Napoleon stepped right up to her, stroking up her back and then back down her spine, before swatting her ass lightly.

She jumped.

“Remember when we danced?”

“Yes.”

She sounded breathless already.

“This is like that, but better.”

He winked at Illya and tossed the condom aside, prepared to completely blow Gaby’s mind.

Where Illya won with length and overall impressive size, Napoleon had form and width to provide maximum friction.

He didn’t like to gloat, but he was looking forward to watching Illya see Gaby come.

With a smooth thrust, he was inside her at once and overwhelmed.

He almost laughed, but bit his tongue at the last second, lest he make her nervous or wonder if something was off.

The irony was too delicious.

While he was the true epitome of just why lust shouldn’t take human form, Gaby felt like sin to be inside.

Hot and wet and tight and incredibly responsive to any external touch.

As one hand pressed gently on her lower back, he reached the other around to stimulate her clit, and took pride in the widening of Illya’s eyes at the sight.

In almost no time at all, Gaby was gasping and panting, pushing back against him, urging him on faster, and she had given up remaining on all fours to clutch at the pillow, with what he hoped were happy tears in her eyes.

“Yes… oh god, right there… please …”

Hearing her beg with an irreverent prayer was what did Napoleon in.

Before she could know what was happening, he’d pulled out of her and released himself on her bare back.

She was lost in the throes of bliss, and as such didn’t really seem to care that he hadn’t finished inside her.

The glistening ropes of white on her skin brought the smile back to his face.

She’d managed to make him lose his composure, and that never happened, not while on mission.

He pushed back a stray curl that had escaped and wiped the sweat from his brow.

Leaning over her on the side where her face was exposed, he whispered softly,

“All right there love?”

“Yes. I just need a moment.”

He hummed in agreement.

“Of course. Do be careful when you move, there’s a bit of a… mess on your back.”

Gaby smiled dreamily,

“Is that right?”

Napoleon looked up to find Illya glaring at him,

“But if you wish, I can clean it right up. Forgive my possessive move.”

Gaby waved a hand through the air lazily,

“Do whatever. Make Illya lick it off. I don’t care. I’m not moving for a minute.”

The wicked grin that replaced his semi-repentant expression was for the angel and the angel alone.


	7. Chapter 7

“You heard the lady. Hop to it.”

Illya was practically steaming at the ears,

“I know I said I would do whatever she asked but that did not involve you.”

Between them, Gaby stirred slightly from her orgasmic coma,

“It was just a suggestion. Not remotely serious. But it’s practically the same as sucking him off. You wouldn’t do that?”

Illya felt utterly horrified and the smug smile still on the demon’s face was bad enough.

“Never.”

Gaby pouted up at him,

“Even if I asked? How bad could it be? I want you to. I’ll show you how, on you, it’s really very easy.”

Angel and demon locked eyes for a moment, and Gaby’s eyes fell shut in the silence.

“Fine.”

The word came out through gritted teeth and Illya was _not_ pleased. Yes he was glad to do her bidding and grant her every wish, naughty and completely wicked as they might be, but that? That crossed a line he wasn’t sure he wanted to even think about.

Napoleon winked at him, and Illya’s hands itched for his sword.

It would be _so_ easy.

Gaby was practically asleep.

One. Swift. Thrust.

He paused.

That didn’t sound quite right.

Napoleon was still watching him.

“Imagining how my hands will fit into your hair? Hoping Gaby will choke on you?”

Illya’s eyes widened and he would have protested immediately if Gaby hadn’t let out a moan.

“Yes please.”

“You… want that?”

Gaby nodded against the pillow.

“I mean it’s totally going to happen. Look at you. But yeah. I’m dying for a taste. Oh god. I’m not drunk enough to be admitting this.”

Napoleon stroked her back with an abrupt amount of tenderness and leaned over to kiss her cheek, still shimmering with a sheen of sweat,

“I’ll fetch your glass and a wet cloth. Save Illya the trouble this time.”

Illya was going to do more than smite him. He was going to wring his neck first. Break him in half, _and then_ send him screaming back to hell.

So why was his human heart speeding up? Had anything about the conversation been arousing? Because clearly his dick thought it had.

*

Gaby was pleasantly buzzed and as she took a final sip of vodka, before she handed the glass back to Napoleon, who took it with an exaggerated bow, she felt perfectly ready to get back in the game.

If by game one meant prepare to conquer Illya’s cock again, and this time with her mouth, then it was a perfect metaphor.

Or maybe analogy.

She wasn’t sure.

“On your back please.”

She decided to command it to be done and get it over with.

Besides she had a few ideas for after she’d gotten him off again, namely involving moving up his body, after kissing him to maybe see if he’d return the favor.

Once he was lying flat, he didn’t look nearly as tall, except for the fact his feet were hanging slightly off the bed, and Napoleon was shaking said bed with his laughter.

“Okay that’s enough. Quiet in the peanut gallery.”

“Yes ma’am.” He answered, complete with a salute that made her blush.

He managed to involve both his hand and his cock. How did he do that?

Not that she was anything but appreciative of the view and the incredible stamina in the room…but still.

Gaby slinked her way up Illya’s body, hands braced on his legs, moving slowly and stroking the whole way, while planting kisses on his skin the closer she got to his twitching erection.

His breath had already sped up, and she hadn’t even touched him yet.

She smiled at him confidently and took him in one hand, while bringing her mouth to the tip.

His back arched off the bed and he nearly got her to choke by accident.

“Whoa. Down boy.”

She pressed her other hand onto his stomach, urging him to lie down again, and he smiled apologetically.

“Innocent creatures are always the most sensitive.”

Napoleon piped up, and Gaby fought the urge to roll her eyes.

“Okay enough.”

Once again she took Illya into her mouth, much slower that time, and his answer was a shuddering sigh, as his hands formed fists at his side.

Better than snarling in her hair, she supposed.

While her hand worked what her mouth couldn’t dream of taking, she started to work him over more intensely with hard licks and gentle grazes of her teeth.

Instead of flinching away, he seemed to relish it.

But she sensed him growing dangerously close even before he could warn her.

In the last moments, she moved her hand and took him all the way into her mouth, letting his tip brush the back of her throat.

She swallowed around nothing, and that was the final straw.

He came with a groaning sigh and she continued to stroke him through the aftershocks, only pulling away with an obscene popping noise to look down at him admiringly.

She shifted up to perch on his chest, and she brushed a hand over his cheek, as she felt his own hands slid up her thighs, holding her in place.

“You all right?”

He simply nodded, and pulled her up with a sudden movement so that she was straddling his throat, which although she’d wanted to suggest she hadn’t been prepared for.

He turned his head and pressed a kiss to her thigh, causing her to jump.

He was so close to where she wanted him.

As if he was reading her mind, his crystal blue eyes opened slowly and he swallowed before speaking,

“Would you like me to taste _you_ now?”

Would she?

Gaby was sure her cheeks were bright red, despite all the delicious and devious things they’d already done.

“Yes.”

Her voice betrayed her, cracking in the middle of the word.

Before she could blink, he had pulled her up all the way, and she was now poised above his mouth.

“Down.”

That was the last thing he said, before she did as he asked, and lowered herself onto his face.


	8. Chapter 8

Napoleon wasn’t sure what sorts of books the angel had been reading, or what French movies he’d seen, but watching little Gaby riding his face was something else entirely.

He wished he could capture the memories forever, or somehow print off the mental pictures he was taking upon returning to hell, but he couldn’t.

So he simply observed.

He was looking forward to his turn at that, but also sincerely hoping the angel was going to do as Gaby asked, and go down on _him_.

Not so that he could have bragging rights about an angel having sucked him off, because that in and of itself sounded so fantastical he’d be laughed out of the lower office, but just to see how it would _feel_.

Kissing Gaby was like coming home.

Would Illya kiss him first?

To help him see how it wasn’t bad at all?

He wondered what Gaby tasted like.

Would the angel kiss him with her on his lips?

Napoleon let his eyes fall shut, away from the glorious spectacle to imagine that, and then his hands seemed to take on a mind of their own, while he took himself in hand, he also reached blindly for one of Gaby’s.

Miracle of miracles, she wasn’t yet too distracted to feel him.

He laced his fingers with hers, feeling the way she tightened her grip when the angel hit the right spot inside her.

Incredibly, it wasn’t much longer before she was on the verge of breaking his fingers as she came.

The shuddering gasp that met his ears might have been hers or his as he followed her.

A soft plop was the sound of Gaby collapsing onto the foot of the bed, giving Napoleon a perfect view of her glistening thighs.

He looked over at the angel, who wore an uncharacteristically smug smile.

“Good job.”

Illya nodded,

“Thank you.”

Napoleon saw his opportunity, and he closed the distance between them in a sudden move.

Grasping Illya’s face in one hand, and bracing his shoulder with the other, Napoleon brought him in for a kiss.

His tongue swiped over Illya’s lips, stealing a hint of a taste of Gaby before the angel broke away.

“What the…?”

Gaby let out a disappointed sigh.

“Can’t he have one little kiss? Is it so terrible?”

Napoleon put on his best innocent expression, as the angel eyed him warily,

“Only if he does not touch my face. That is only for you.”

That was a surprise in and of itself.

“Okay. I promise.”

Illya moved back towards him, and Napoleon was careful to only brace his hands on the angel’s biceps when their lips met again.

As if fire and ice had met, their mouths slid around for a moment before Napoleon decided to probe the angel’s mouth, and he found the most potent taste of all, Gaby’s essence mixed with a cool rush of mint.

It was simply intoxicating.

*

To Illya’s shock and awe, kissing the demon wasn’t actually as bad as he imagined.

Then again, he didn’t often imagine kissing another being besides Gaby at all.

The demon had remarkably soft lips, and a rather gentle technique, until he got past the simple kissing and brought his forked tongue into it.

Well, not actually forked, but it might as well have been for the wicked things it seemed to promise Illya. For once, he was no longer looking forward to the end of the night, for that would mean saying goodbye to Gaby and farewell to knowing just how she felt against him, in his arms and under his hands.

Not that the kiss with Napoleon wasn’t rather pleasant in its own way, but it was only a prelude. What came next would be far less enjoyable.

Of course, watching Gaby drink him down had been a singular experience, and almost as wonderful as being inside her as he’d climaxed.

Not that he had a huge basis of comparison in the carnal arts.

When Napoleon’s hand drifted from his arm muscle down to a completely different muscle, he was pulled out of his haphazard thoughts and brought to the present.

“What are you doing?”

He broke the kiss half heartedly, to ask just below Gaby’s hearing range, and the demon smiled against his lips,

“Just getting a feel for it. You’ve been garnering such praise from our Gaby after all.”

The words ‘She’s _mine_ not _ours_ ’ froze in Illya’s throat as Napoleon did something utterly wicked with his fingers and he lost his train of thought.

All he wanted to do was keep kissing the demon and for his hand to speed up.

“Are you ready?”

Napoleon broke the kiss again to taunt him and Illya had about had it.

He smacked the demon’s hand away from his own practically throbbing cock and then shoved him back.

“Let’s get this over with.”

Napoleon smirked up at him, on his back but still confident he had the upper hand.

But Illya had a few tricks up his sleeve.

He shifted back to kneel on the ground in front of the bed and beckoned the demon.

“Closer.”

Napoleon cocked a dark eyebrow at him but did as he was bid, letting his legs freely hang off the bed, framing Illya’s main objective.

Sitting up and placing a hand on each thigh, Illya leaned down to fully envelop Napoleon length in his mouth.

The demon let out a sort of strangled cry, and Gaby was upon him instantly, kissing him and completely blocking the view from what Illya was doing.

He smiled around the mouthful of cock and felt the muscles beneath his hands twitch.

Beginning slowly and gradually working up to fast strokes and hard sucks; soon Napoleon was breaking the kiss from Gaby and begging for him to let him come.

But Illya wasn’t about to let him off that easy.

He grinned wide, allowing his teeth just graze the skin of the tip as he moved up and off for a moment, letting one hand take over the action, while Gaby soothed him with a hand on his chest and occasional kisses.

Napoleon was practically sobbing his need seemed so great, and before Gaby could give him a look or say anything, Illya took him all the way in again and sucked _hard_ while his hand worked what he could swallow in.

The demon was gone an instant later, and the aftershocks were nearly enough to knock Gaby off his chest.

“Oh…my…god. Remind me to never piss you off.”

Napoleon gasped out when Illya had finally moved away from him, his cock too sensitive to take any more stimulation.

“Just think, this is how I act now.”

Illya winked at him, surprising himself, and he caught a look from Gaby, something that seemed to emanate pride.

“I’m going to go freshen up a bit, but when I come back, I expect cuddles before bed.”

Gaby stroked a hand down Napoleon’s chest and squeezed one of Illya’s hands before leaving the room.

The angel and the demon exchanged a glance.

“Truce till the morning?”

Napoleon offered wearily.

Illya frowned,

“No. In the morning, you leave.”

Napoleon raised his eyebrows at the angel,

“I will only leave if she expressly tells me. Otherwise, I still have a job to do.”

Illya rolled his eyes again, a rare gesture, and then got up to fall down on the bed, narrowly avoiding an attempt to crush the demon.

It was pure luck his knees weren’t hurting from all the kneeling.

He supposed maybe it was an inherent thing for angels.

Always able to pray.

He’d never tested it out before, nor dreamt just _how_ he would test it out.

“Okay? As soon as she says, I will go.”

Illya was skeptical.

“What will your superiors say?”

Napoleon shrugged,

“They’ll send someone else to do the job. Someone I’m sure you’ll have no problem smiting on sight.”

There was a semblance of a smile between the two of them before Gaby returned with a smile, and distinctively minty breath of her own.

Then she was between them.

Napoleon put a possessive arm around her waist from behind as he spooned her, but Illya was the one she fell asleep facing, with her own small arm over him, and their other hands met with the fingers laced.

Illya fell asleep surrounded by the scent of her shampoo.

The demon might not have slept but if he did, Illya would have bet he was nuzzled into Gaby neck and shoulder.


	9. Chapter 9

Somewhere in the middle of the night, Gaby climbed out from between them to go downstairs, and then Napoleon was wide awake and every nerve was afire, prepared to run.

Illya must have had a sixth sense about him because before he could so much as open his eyes to appear awake, the angel was touching his arm, giving him pause.

“Wait.”

“Why should I?”

“This entire thing, it’s complicated now. We talked this over…remember?”

Napoleon smiled easily,

“Yeah sure, but since when has Hell trusted Heaven on anything they say? You guys aren’t the best at practicing what you preach.”

Illya was frowning at him, he could tell.

“How so?”

Napoleon smirked, and closed the distance between them easily, rolling the angel over so he was looming above him,

“Oh you know…there are just some things you guys do that is less than, holy.”

Ignoring the angel’s small frown that persisted, he leaned down to capture his lips in a searing kiss.

Neither of them had been very deeply asleep with Gaby, but now Napoleon was more awake and alert than ever.

He could feel the angel writhing beneath him; just slight tilts of his hips and the way his hands didn’t seem to know where to light.

The angel didn’t like being on the bottom, he knew it.

As he began to nip and suck at the angel’s lips, that was the final straw, and with a move so smooth and fast it took his breath away, Illya had flipped him over and was now on top.

“What exactly?”

The cool breath of a prayer was going to make Napoleon confess, he had to.

But for the soft padding footsteps on the stairs, and the re-entrance of their object of interest.

“Boys… are you having fun without me?”

Illya actually looked slightly guilty, but Napoleon had no such shame, trapped as he was beneath a veritable mountain of righteous muscle and sexual energy,

“Indeed. I was just about to propose something to our tall friend here.”

Gaby looked utterly delighted and she even clapped her hands together.

Standing there before them, naked as the day she was born, bathed in moonlight, she looked more the angel than Illya.

Napoleon was sure that was the reason for the glazed over look on said angel’s face, and not the fact he’d allowed his hands to wander over the taunt back muscles and down, just above the cleft of his ass.

“He’s so tall, but he does it so well. And you, you’re terribly bad, but handsome as hell. How did I get so lucky?”

“Sweetheart you have no idea how backwards you’ve got it.” Napoleon grinned over at her.

“What are you doing?”

Illya finally snapped, breaking the moment just a second before Napoleon would have gone for his dick, to attempt to sooth his impatience.

“Like I said. I was going to ask you something. I think Gaby would enjoy it too.”

“It is the middle of the night.”

Illya protested.

“So you’re too tired then?”

Napoleon grinned cheekily, before being brave and taking the angel’s once again fully hard cock in hand, proving his point, which was to say, no one was really _that_ tired.

Gaby carefully climbed in bed in the space Napoleon had vacated and looked completely enthralled.

“I’m not, and if you boys are about to do what I think you are, I’d love to watch.”

“What are you going to do to me?”

Napoleon was sure his eyes crossed from focusing on the angel’s eyes, and when he put it like that, oh the things he wanted to try to do and never stop until he heard him beg for mercy, just like he’d been made to do earlier in the night.

“I’m going to let you fuck me.”

Gaby’s little gasp of surprise went straight to his groin.

But she’d known, or at least suspected, so what exactly had she been expecting?

Maybe in another life the angel would let him _do_ him.

Not a chance now.

Illya frowned, rather adorably, just like his sweet little charge,

“How do you plan to do that?”

Napoleon cleared his throat, and gently pushed him up and away for a moment, which the angel complied with perfectly, stunning him in his pliancy.

“Gaby can be the one to grab the stuff, go on darling; I know you’ve got something we can use around here. Then you can take out all your frustration on me, I can take _it_.”

By it he meant the incredibly blessed cock that the angel was in possession of, but he could have also meant the frustration in general, no one needed to be the wiser.

Gaby practically leapt out of the bed in her eagerness to comply and together both angel and demon watched her go again.

“You wish to lead me into sin, is that right?”

Illya was now staring at him, to be precise, eyeing exactly where he’d finally figured out he’d be putting his dick.

Napoleon fought the mad urge to laugh at his expression which seemed torn between want and apprehension.

“Oh my dear angel, you’ve been sinning gleefully all night with Gaby and I, what would make you stop now?”

What seemed dangerously close to an eye roll befell the angel, and Napoleon did manage a chuckle,

“That is different.”

“How?”

“It just is.”

“All sins are equal in the eyes of god, are they not?”

Napoleon fired back, eyebrow cocked, and hands rising to his hips.

Luckily Gaby returned at that moment with a familiar jar capped with a blue lid and a couple more condoms.

“Oh we won’t need those…”

Napoleon found himself saying, before he could bite his tongue.

Illya blinked as Gaby stopped short.

“Are you sure? There are all sorts of scares going on, and I just thought,”

Illya shook his head,

“It’s fine. I trust you both.”

What he wasn’t saying was the simple fact remained there wasn’t a disease that could harm an angel who never partook, or could touch a demon that did.

Gaby’s thoughtfulness was incredibly sweet regardless.

Napoleon plucked the jar from her hands and dipped two fingers inside, mostly for show, as he was perfectly ready for whatever the angel thought he couldn’t dish out.

Gaby took up her position back at the head of the bed to watch, and Illya simply hung back, seeming to wait until he was called.

Napoleon moved to get on all fours, just as he’d started with Gaby, and he threw her a wink, before looking over his shoulder and beckoning the angel.

“Come and get it.”

He saw Illya rub his hands together, as if to attempt to warm them a bit and not shock him, but they were still chilled when the angel grabbed his ass to pull him flush to his groin.

Napoleon let out an involuntary groan at the feel of the angel’s cock rubbing against him.

“Ready?”

Illya had practically bent over him to whisper in his ear, and Napoleon’s answer was to lean over and peck him on the cheek.

*

Gaby had heard all about what the servicemen were said to get up to when lonely or missing their women back home, but seeing it first hand was something else.

In fact, it seemed for a moment as if the two men were all alone in the room, and she was simply a beautiful fixture of an abstract nature.

But then when Illya first thrust inside Napoleon, his hand snapped out to grab her ankle, in effect dragging her right back into the moment.

He didn’t physically pull her; he probably didn’t have the strength to do much more than receive, judging by the expression of pure bliss on his face when Illya began to move, but she didn’t mind, suddenly all she wanted was to kiss him.

Carefully lying down underneath Napoleon, propped up on a pillow, she reached up to cup a hand behind his head, feeling the sweat gathering at the nape of his neck, and she pulled him in to meet her lips.

Kissing upside down was certainly an interesting challenge, but it was incredible to feel the slight movements as Illya drove into him and in turn Gaby drank the sighs and gasps that escaped him.

“You feel so good…”

Illya groaned aloud, and Gaby could feel the way Napoleon smiled into the kiss.

He was a bit smug about it, but then again, he had more experience with the entire thing it seemed.

“Do you need anything?”

She broke the kiss to ask, pointedly reaching back to stroke his chest, ready to assist in any way she could.

Napoleon shook his head slightly,

“Nope. I’m going come from this alone when this idiot finally lets me have it. He’s being too gentle.”

Gaby frowned slightly,

“Oh?”

Napoleon gritted his teeth and inhaled swiftly,

“I’m not nearly as fragile as you sweetheart. He’s just playing around. I can take it.”

Gaby got back and looked over at Illya, who seemed to be lost in himself, eyes squeezed shut and chest heaving with every breath.

She moved along Napoleon’s body down to face Illya, and she reached out to him, stroking his cheek with a hand, and his blue eyes opened at once to focus on her,

“Are you close?”

The words fell out of her mouth in a harsh whisper, and she wasn’t sure when it had happened, but her core was aching and her nipples had peaked.

She was going to need one of them to do something to her when they finished, if they could.

“Oh god, yes.”

Illya gasped out, and she closed the distance to kiss him fiercely, feeling his arm slip around her waist to pull her close.

His heartbeat was beating at what felt like triple time, and he jerked suddenly against her, and she tasted that delicate mint on his tongue as he groaned out his climax.

“Holy fuck.”

Napoleon was cursing a prayer beneath him as he went limp atop the pillows, and Gaby felt a nervous giggle escape her, breaking the kiss between her and Illya.

“Wow.”

Napoleon chuckled wearily,

“I’ll say.”

The two separated, but not without Gaby.

Illya pulled her up and into his arms, which she was frankly impressed by, because how was he not worn out from all that?

He walked her around to plop her back onto the bed, and sweetly kissed her forehead.

“I’m going to get a drink, can I get you anything?”

She shook her head, feeling rather in a daze, and then smiled dreamily at him as he walked away.

Once his perfectly sculpted behind had escaped her sight, she looked over at Napoleon, who seemed to be recovering.

“Alone at last.”

He murmured, and she giggled again.

“Indeed. I wonder, do you feel up to finally having that taste?”

There was no lingering vodka in her system to make her bold, but perhaps it was merely the witching hour. There wasn’t much time in the night left until dawn, but Gaby felt anything besides exhaustion.

Napoleon shifted around to prop up on his elbow and stare at her with something akin to wonder in his pretty eyes.

“Are you feeling a little on edge after watching us fuck?”

The harsh words that he cursed with simply made her skin prickle with arousal and she nodded.

He ducked his head, allowing a stray dark curl to fall down on his forehead,

“It would be my absolute pleasure.”

Gaby licked her lips and suddenly felt weak in the knees,

“How do you want me? Should I move…?”

Napoleon shook his head, simply shifting over to shimmy up her body, allowing her to remain seated, leaning back against the headboard, and he planted himself between her legs, placing a gentle kiss on her inner right thigh, before stroking the opposite with his hand,

“You are perfect just as you are. Don’t move. But you can put your hands on my head to guide me.”

He winked up at her, and then he was leaning in, closing the distance so she couldn’t just feel his hot breath on her inner folds, but the first brush of his tongue against her, and the scream that ripped from her lips was unbidden.

Something about his kiss had always been different, and with a slight sting, but now that was translated to a delicious warm tingling as he sucked and licked at her, with his hands pressed on her thighs, determined to keep her legs apart from crushing his head.

That would easily have happened at the first touch if he hadn’t been so thoughtful.

She did exactly as he’d asked, thrusting her hands into the dark locks upon his head, messing with the casual bed head style he seemed to have been cultivating, and when she tugged, lightly, and harder, he simply groaned into her, the vibrations from his voice throwing her dangerously close to the edge.

“Oh god…”

The irreverent prayer fell from her lips as he continued to do wicked things to her with his mouth, and she almost was afraid for Illya to return and see her like this.

Not that he hadn’t gladly watched when Napoleon fucked her and watched her come before.

Now it was different. It felt more, intimate, somehow.


	10. Chapter 10

Leaving Gaby alone with the demon might have seemed like a stupid idea the night before, but now Illya was almost entirely certain there would be no chance of danger.

But the scream that sounded mere moments after he left had him sprinting back up the stairs, sword in hand, until he stopped short, seeing Napoleon lying before her, dark head between her thighs, with the moonlight illuminating them both.

It was Gaby’s expression of rapt pleasure that made him drop his sword.

When a call to the heavens fell from her lips that was what made him reach out to steady himself against the doorframe.

Neither of them had spotted him yet.

He didn’t consider it a crime to take himself in hand, languidly stroking himself as he watched the demon drive Gaby closer to her brink.

Just going by the way her legs were beginning to tighten around Napoleon’s shoulders, she was incredibly close.

Her jaw dropped just a fraction, and her head fell back against the headboard as a final sigh escaped her, and he saw the way her legs quivered with her aftershocks.

Napoleon didn’t get up however; he didn’t seem to be stopping at all.

Her hand was probably painful in his hair, but when she stiffened beneath his ministrations and her eyes flew open with a surprised gasp, he knew something incredible had happened.

Napoleon had given her pleasure twice over.

Now that demon was going to have something to gloat about.

Illya frowned at him, but surely he wasn’t even aware of anything but Gaby in the moment, so he simply strode back into the room, casually and slowly enough not to startle them.

“Doesn’t she taste amazing?”

He managed, and Gaby’s sleepy smile over at him told him the whole story.

“Quite heavenly to be exact.”

Was Napoleon’s glib reply, and though he was still a bit jealous of the demon, he had to smile.

If there was anything close to heaven, it was seeing Gaby climax while kneeling or lying before her.

He wasn’t about to argue that.

“I think I need a moment.”

Gaby murmured, and after a final stroke through Napoleon’s hair, she was shifting and moving to lie down, snuggling up to one of the errant pillows.

In a few moments, her breathing had slowed, and she was asleep.

Illya was impressed, and not just with that, but the fact that Napoleon had actually not tried anything stupid while he’d been gone.

He’d not needed a drink at all.

It had been a test.

Napoleon seemed to figure it out about three seconds before opening his mouth to tease him about leaving.

His dark brows met in a furrow on his forehead,

“You…trust me?”

Illya shrugged,

“Now I can.”

“Well, good.”

“Tired?”

Napoleon shrugged,

“Maybe a bit. Want to take this side?”

He gestured to Gaby’s sleeping form, and maybe it was merely the gentle curve of her spine to her perfectly shaped ass that convinced him.

“Okay.”

Napoleon slipped out of the bed, walking past him and around to the opposite side, but not without a lingering look at him, and there was something like affection in his eyes, but that couldn’t be possible, could it?

Illya got in the bed and cuddled up to Gaby, loving how his body seemed to curl around her, protective and yet shaped as if they were two puzzle pieces set to fit together.

Why had he never done anything like this before?

Napoleon gave him a knowing smile before closing his eyes, and doing as he had earlier in the night, reaching for one of Gaby’s hands, as Illya tucked a hand under her breast as his arm wrapped around her waist.

*

The sun was shining brightly when Gaby woke up for the second time, and it was with the insistent feel of a long hard something pressed against the small of her back.

She smiled into the pillow before moving to push back against what had to be Illya’s morning wood.

The arm around her waist tightened, and for a second she couldn’t breathe, but then it was gone in a heartbeat.

She felt bereft.

“I hear something.”

Gaby’s eyes snapped open.

“It’s Natalia.”

Napoleon was facing her, and he frowned slightly, before allowing his eyes to open.

“Who?”

His voice was husky from sleep, and his hair was adorably mussed even more so than her doing.

“My roommate.”

Illya was already out of the bed, probably pulling his clothes on at top speed, and Napoleon merely rolled his eyes.

Gaby was delighted to see her favorite method of expressing impatience on someone else.

“She won’t mind cooking breakfast for a couple others.”

Illya piped up from behind them,

“That’s not what I’m worried about.”

Gaby shifted around to face him, and almost immediately felt Napoleon cuddle up to her back, his bare skin brushing against her, almost warming her instantly.

How did he do that?

“She’s a good friend. She won’t ask any questions. After all, I happen to know she was gone all night with a couple herself. A man and woman in her case.”

Gaby smirked at Illya, enjoying the slight blush that darkened his cheeks.

Napoleon leaned in to press a kiss between her shoulder blades, making her shiver,

“There you have it _Illya_ , Gaby says we’re okay. We’re okay.”

Illya’s eyes widened, but Gaby wasn’t sure why.

“You okay?”

She asked him, and he nodded, his gaze falling behind her to Napoleon.

“I’m peachy.”

He murmured against her skin, pressing another kiss to the side of her neck, before she giggled.

“Well good. I suppose we all better get dressed though. No need to give _everything_ away to my friend.”

Napoleon chuckled,

“I think you’re right. She might not be able to resist us then.”

Gaby was surprised at the hot spear of jealousy that shot down her spine at the thought.

“I wouldn’t like that.”

“Oh?”

Illya was raising a blond eyebrow at her as he tugged on his socks.

“Because you’re _mine_.”

Napoleon’s arm gently tugged her onto her back so he could look down at her,

“I love the sound of that.”

He closed the distance in a kiss, and it was only the sound of Illya clearing his throat that made her want to stop.

“I want you too.”

Gaby said, smiling over at Illya.

She climbed out of bed, and moved to grab a nearby robe hanging over her mirror, and pulled it on, before walking right up to Illya and throwing her arms around his shoulders, tugging him in for a morning kiss as well.

He tasted just like mint again, but stronger.

When had he gone and brushed his teeth?

The growl of her stomach interrupted them, and Napoleon was chuckling on the bed still.

“Come on then. Get dressed if you want bacon and eggs.”

Gaby called back to him, now arm in arm with Illya, who was leading her out the door.

“You got it.”

He replied, at their side in a flash.

His shirt was hanging open and he only had his boxers covering his bottom half.

Gaby covered her mouth with her hand,

“You don’t look decent at all.”

Napoleon grinned,

“Do I ever?”

The question wasn’t addressed to her; rather it seemed to be for Illya.

His tight smile answered it perfectly, and Gaby made a mental note to quiz them again sometime when they weren’t overly drunk on lust or booze, _how did they know each other?_ She didn’t buy the whole ‘work’ thing for a second.

 

***

 

**END**

 

 


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